


Barista

by sfiddy



Series: Skoulson ficlets [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coffee Shop, Coulson has a need for foam, Daisy has a need for latte, Fluff, Gen, Mission Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfiddy/pseuds/sfiddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post mission coffee.  Pure unadulterated fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barista

Daisy dragged her gear into the SUV and tugged the gauntlets down her aching arms. A second bag slid next to hers and Coulson pulled out his earpiece. “You okay?”

“Sore, but that’s what I get for banging two trucks together to make a fire break.” She pulled a flannel shirt out of her bag and slid it on with a sigh. “You okay?”

Coulson nodded as he brushed at a light singe mark on his sleeve. “Caught a spark or two, but I’m fine. This kid is going to need some serious in-processing. You have your work cut out for you.”

Didn’t she know it. “Emotion makes our powers unstable. Why did she have to be twelve, for god’s sake? As if she didn’t have enough going on.”

Bullet proof vests were hung and icers stowed for travel. Sensitive information was swiftly encrypted, security cameras wiped, and a few changes to history to hide the traffic disruption.

Coulson put his hand on Daisy’s arm as she finished feeding traffic accident reports to local news outlets. “You talked her down. That took skill.” He glanced at her screen. “I like that one. Very creative.”

She grinned. “It’s tough to find a reason for a double eighteen wheeler accident in a suburb, but hey. I do what I can.”

The driver signaled and they finished loading their gear. Coulson opened the door for Daisy, who swayed on her feet for a moment.

“Whoa, are you sure you’re okay?”

She shook her head to clear it. It had been a rough day. Always hard when they were so young. “Tough day. I’m going to drool on the table during debrief if I can’t wake up.”

Coulson smiled. “I think we can help you there.”

…

Daisy rested her head against the window during the stop, half asleep and listening to the buzz and chatter of the comms. Delivery went fine, the girl was safe and quiet. Nothing was on fire, and no one was cracking jokes about roasting marshmallows. 

She rubbed her aching arms, knowing she’d need icepacks and meds when they got back. Even if she wasn’t damaging herself anymore, the kickback from impacts was enough to make her sore for a few days. It was enough to make her thoughtful about her powers, even if she was reckless at times.

The door opened, rousing Daisy from her musing as Coulson climbed back in. 

“Where did you--” Daisy spotted the drink carrier. “Is that, oh my god, yes.”

Coulson handed over a big cup. “Double latte, no foam, extra syrup. My treat.” He handed another to the driver and settled in with his own.

She wrapped her hands around the cup and breathed in the wisps of steam rising from the sip hole in the top. Too hot to drink, but perfect to inhale. 

Daisy looked over curiously. “What did you get?”

“Single latte, extra foam.” 

“Seriously? Extra foam?”

“I like the texture.”

The driver pulled away from the shop and they began the cruise back to the quinjet. After a few minutes, the drinks were cool enough to drink without burning, and Daisy closed her eyes with the pure luxury of a real coffee shop drink.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. I’ll be ready to go in no time.” She glanced over to see Coulson, swirling his cup a bit sadly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just… the foam.”

Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Aww, did your foam bite it while you waited?”

“Yeah. Oh well.”

With a tiny smile, she wiggled her fingers in the direction of his cup. It wouldn’t hurt anything, not even her, and milk was nothing compared to two huge trucks. She reached out to feel the volume in the cup, the tiny bubbles injecting lightness into the drink as she gently quivered the molecules inside. She was about to stop, but decided to make sure he noticed. 

“Wha--?” Coulson made a quick slurp from the top of his cup where milk foam was erupting from the sipper top like a tiny volcano. Daisy giggled when a trail of heavy froth clung to his upper lip.

Coulson looked over and squinted an eye at her. “Showoff,” he accused, and wiped his lip.

“Yep,” she agreed. “And you like it.”

There was nothing better than the little secret smiles she got during the debriefing whenever he took a drink, because he liked it and didn’t mind that she knew it.


End file.
